


Something Good

by olivejuice28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Pining, SO MUCH FLUFF, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29778678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivejuice28/pseuds/olivejuice28
Summary: Draco must have done something in his life to have earned the gift he's been given.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 11
Kudos: 90





	Something Good

_ Splat, splat, splat. _

His shoes made a despondent sound as he trudged through the rain, the weather mirroring his inner climate. He had been so stupid - had gone and mucked everything up in a moment of sheer idiocy. The one thing that brought him joy, the one shining ray of sunshine in his otherwise dull and dreary existence was now going to be relegated to memory because he’d acted on impulse...

They’d been in her small but cheerful kitchen, fixing lunch together, as they often did on Saturday afternoons. They both preferred the privacy of her home as opposed to the gawking stares and muttered comments being in public typically brought - in awe and reverence towards her, in scorn and animosity towards him. He’d been tasked with making sandwiches while she worked on the pot of soup she’d started earlier. They were chatting about nothing of any great import when he happened to glance up from the slices of bread and ham and cheese, and his gaze landed on her. From his spot on the other side of her wood-topped island, her profile was in clear view; an angle he’d memorized years ago, though he never tired of cataloging her features. The freckle on her right cheek, the curve of her nose, the curls that always sprang free of her haphazard ponytail, the way her lips moved as she spoke; all of these were dearly familiar to him. 

He watched her stir the soup and sighed inwardly. It was always so easy, so comfortable, with her. They’d grown increasingly close over the last three years, starting as coworkers, then shifting to a more casual acquaintance, evolving eventually into an actual friendship that surprised not just the two of them, but their entire social circle as well. It was not uncommon for them to accompany one another to Ministry events, weddings, parties, and the like, when their presence was expected, nor was it odd to find them camped out in one another's office, or enjoying lunch at a shared table during the workweek.

He could admit without hesitation that she was his favorite person. Conversation was always interesting and engaging with her; her wit and intellect were second to none. Her smile was contagious and her laugh made him feel like all was right with the world. He loved everything about her, from her ridiculous collection of fuzzy socks, to her overstuffed bookshelves, to the vanilla shampoo she used, to the fact that she was absolutely  _ horrible  _ at making a decent cup of tea. There wasn’t a single thing he could find fault with, and therein lay the problem - he didn’t just love everything about her. He loved  _ her _ . Was  _ in love _ with her. Had been for at least the better part of the past year, probably longer, though he was too reluctant to admit it until he couldn’t run from his own feelings anymore, but he had never said or done anything to hint at the depths of his affection for her.

To his rationalization, there was no way someone as wonderful and genuine and inherently  _ kind  _ as her would condescend to enter a romantic relationship with someone like him. Not with his past, not with his failures, not with the guilt and shame and remorse that still kept him up several nights a week. Not with the horrible way he’d treated her - and everyone else - or the all-around arse he’d been. Not with the grudges most of wizardkind still held against him, not that he blamed them. He’d done nothing good in his life to warrant even a glance from her, never mind a piece of her heart. No, her friendship was a gift - one he did not take for granted and one he would never do anything to sabotage.

Until today, apparently.

When she had finished stirring the soup, she'd moved around the island to stand next to him, slicing an apple to add to the plates he was fixing the sandwiches on. She was giggling about something, he didn’t know what, but when she looked at him, eyes sparkling with mirth, mouth quirked in an impish grin, his common sense and self-control flew right out the window and he leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t anything long or passionate, but soft and sweet and over in less than three seconds, but those three seconds were enough to send his entire world spiraling out of orbit. He was horrified by what he’d done, and, based on the wide-eyed, slack-jawed stare she was aiming his way, so was she. He grabbed his cloak, muttered a desperate apology and bolted out the door.

_ Splat, splat, splat. _

That’s how he found himself soaking wet, storming down the sidewalk with his shirt plastered to his skin and his cloak moronically tucked under his arm, berating himself for ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“Draco!”

She’d come after him. Of course she had. But he couldn’t bear the thought of facing her and finding anger or loathing or - worst of all - pity in her eyes, so he kept forging ahead.

“Draco, stop!”

He took three more strides before she spoke again.

“ _ Please! _ ”

It was her pleading tone that halted him. He’d never really refuse her anything, even if it meant reaching new levels of self-loathing and humiliation, so he stopped, though he didn’t turn around to look at her.

He heard her sloshing towards him at a rapid pace, the rain having picked up in the minute or two since he’d run out her door. His loafers were disgustingly squelchy, and his hair was hanging in his eyes, but the view of the puddle he was currently standing in was quite clear as he glared at it. Suddenly, a pair of feet shod only in bright purple, fleece socks entered his view and he whipped his head up to ask her if she was mental for going out without shoes, but the sight of her stalled any reprimand in his throat. 

Her hair was streaming with water, random tendrils stuck to her forehead and neck. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were wide and searching. She planted herself right in front of him, right in that same puddle, and grabbed his arms, since his hands were still shoved in his pockets.

“Draco, what is going on?” she asked, clearly confused and worried and far more concerned about him than she ought to be. He shrugged and shook his head, looking back down at the sodden wreck his shoes had become.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to force out through a clenched jaw. He was seconds away from a complete meltdown and he’d rather it not take place in front of her.

“You said that before, but I don’t understand. What are you sorry  _ for _ ?” she stepped closer, forcing him to see her face.

“I shouldn’t have... I didn’t mean... I just...” he kept stumbling over the words, which only served to increase his anger and frustration at his own stupidity, and he finally blurted it all out, figuring he couldn’t possibly hate himself anymore than he did right then. “I love you, Hermione. I have for a while now, and I know you don’t feel the same, and you shouldn’t feel the same, because I don’t deserve you. I never will. And I thought I was okay with just being friends, but apparently...” he shrugged again, mortified anger rolling off him in waves as he fixed his gaze on the nearby curb, refusing to meet her eyes again.

“Ugh!” she made a sound of frustration, “For someone as intelligent as yourself, you are so amazingly, incredibly  _ wrong _ ,” her voice was a lot louder and more forceful than usual, and she even stamped her soggy foot for emphasis, but the effect was rather lost in the water that splashed up against their legs as a result. She huffed in an exasperated way and continued, “You should know by now that I don’t do  _ anything _ I don’t want to do - and that includes who I spend my time with. In case you haven’t noticed, I'm with you these days more than Harry, and that’s saying something.” She tugged on his dripping sleeves and he chanced a look at her to find a fire in her eyes that not even a torrential downpour like the one currently pummeling them could douse.

“If you mean it, if you love me, then you need to know I love you, too. I have for months now, but I was afraid of ruining what we already have. It seems we were both scared for nothing,” a small smile quirked her lips and he felt the tiniest spark of hope ignite within him.

He needed to be sure she understood, though, “Hermione, I’m not the type of wizard everyone expects you to wind up with. No matter what I do, I will always be known for the miserable choices I made and the pain I caused. I'll never be able to do enough or say enough to change that.” His heart felt raw as he laid it out there for her to weigh and decide if he was really worth it - worth  _ her _ .

“That’s not true,” she insisted quietly, one hand releasing his arm and coming up to press against his cheek. “Yes, you were on the wrong side before, but that’s not who you are now. You’ve done so many things - so many  _ good _ things - and people know it.  _ I know it.  _ We can’t change our pasts, but we can determine our futures, and I want you to be part of mine. I  _ need _ you to be part of mine.” Her whiskey colored eyes had filled with tears as she closed the distance between them, willing him to hear her and believe she meant what she said.

Maybe she was right. Maybe he had done enough, atoned for his sins, earned a bit of happiness to call his own. Maybe it was time for him to accept what was being offered without letting his past regrets loom up behind him and smother the hope and peace he clung to with her. Maybe it really could be his - maybe  _ she  _ could really be his.

“I need you to be part of mine, too,” he rasped out before leaning down and capturing her lips in a kiss that drowned out the pounding of the rain, made the world stop spinning, and fanned the ember that had awoken within him just seconds before. 

  
  


**_“For here you are, standing there, loving me._ **

**_Whether or not you should._ **

**_So somewhere in my youth or childhood,_ **

**_I must have done something good.”_ **

_ Something Good _ _ , from The Sound of Music,  _

_ performed by Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer _

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my lovely readers! Just another fluffy o/s in which Draco doubts himself and Hermione makes her feelings clear. I don't know why it took my brain so long to connect this pair to this song - I absolutely adore The Sound Of Music, and Christopher Plummer will ALWAYS be Captain Von Trapp to me <3  
> Thanks so much for reading!


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